Small Town Boys
by Nienna100
Summary: The tale of Kurt's boyfriend, and how they met, through Rachel's parents. Future Puckurt slash. Possible threesome. Includes Rachel's Dads.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Not mine. Well, Rachel and Kurt and the other Gleeks aren't mine. However, given the fact that Rachel's dads haven't been developed at all; they don't have names, I'm going to claim them as mine for now, and all the numerous OCs are mine. And the plot. And this pen. Which is going to start writing now. **

**Dedicated to Claudia: For kicks mostly… also her enthusiasm. Though I guess she already knew that. **

"Kam, try not to spill the glue everywhere…"

"I'm sorry, but the glitter won't stick!"

"Luke! You off already? Don't forget to sign out. Who has the sheet?"

"I'm not going anywhere. Trace and I are going for a smoke."

"My bad! But what have I told you about that disgusting habit?"

"And what have we told you about trying to get rid of us? It's not going to work."

"No… just trying to keep some order. Anyone want tea?"

There was a chorus of confirmations.

"One of you'd better turn the kettle back on then," Nathan said, smirking down at the outrage upon several faces. He sat back against the kitchen cupboard, his own mug of tea cradled between his long hands, as he observed the chaos in the small room. Fourteen boys and eight girl, one in between, in chairs dragged around the table, piled in the window seat, perched on the sideboards… LGBTQQAP one and all; lesbian, gay, bisexual, transgender, queer, questioning, asexual or pansexual. No straighties in here. Not in the Lima community centre, not on a Thursday evening. That was when SNAP ruled, and took over – the only LGBTQQAP youth group for the city. The youth group where Sexuality's Not A Problem.

It was continually a hectic activity, and Nathan loved it. It was the perfect way to restore his faith in humanity when he saw so many kids supporting each other, through the times which were difficult for gay teens, and laughing through the rest of them. Just at this moment, he could hear seven conversations, see three people ravaging plates of sausage rolls and slices of ginger cake, hear one complaining that she didn't like ginger cake, and why hadn't Nathan warned her that the cake had ginger in it?

Nathan's fellow youth worker, Kim, sidled up to his side, stealing a biscuit on the way, and asked, "So, how's the husband?"

"Louis? He's fine. Cooking up a storm for later." Nathan grinned to himself in enthusiasm at even the thought.

"God, I do not want to know what you two are cooking up tonight," Kim said, waving the thoughts away. Ew… men.

"Urgh, don't make everything a euphemism… He's just trying out a new recipe," Nathan replied. He mimed hitting the other on the upside of the head.

"How's the daughter, then?"

"Rachel' Rachel… Her newest craze is Glee club, but I'm pretty sure she's loving it."

A smile lit up Kim's face. "Following in her father's high-heeled footsteps?" At Nathan's groan, muffled by the hands that he had covered his face with, a laugh bellowed from her lips. "I am never going to let you forget that night…"

"You guys got me drunk. It was a mutiny!" Nathan growled.

"You should come to karaoke nights at Dylan's house more often… You have a fantastic voice."

"What's this?" Two of the girls at the table turned around. "The Doc has a voice?"

000

Kurt glanced along the row of red fabric seats. He was next to Finn, who was next to Rachel, who was next to Puck, who was next to Quinn. On Kurt's other side was Mercedes. Was there a more awkward row of seats in the entire theatre? He looked down a row; Mr. Schuester was flanked by his wife and the crazy careers advice Lady. _That _was awkward. The rest of the gleeks were in the front row – Kurt bridled with jealousy; they were in the best seats because it was the only place Artie could sit. And Kurt had lost in the race for seats.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by rustling from his right. Mercedes was unwrapping a sweet and a whole packet of them was waiting for her in her lap. But Kurt held up a hand. "Mercedes, please tell me you do not plan on eating those throughout the performance tonight."

"Of course I am! That's why I bought them from that man in the red jacket that looks like it's yours," Mercedes protested.

"This isn't the cinema, girl! It is bad theatre etiquette to rustle during a performance. It's disrespectful to the performers," Kurt explained.

"Why do they sell them then?" Finn asked, frowning his confusion.

"Money… obviously," Kurt started, rolling his eyes. "So either unwrap everything you have before curtain up, or don't eat them at all." Kurt sat back in his seat, crossing his legs contemptuously. Seated between his best friend and the boy he loved about to watch a performance… He could get used to this. The fact that he had to watch it with Rachel Berry on the other side was not important.

Finn leaned over him in order to steal a sweet from Mercedes, and Kurt forgot to listen to the girl's protest as a wave of Finn' aftershave washed over him. Several of his brain cells melted from the heat of the sparks in the pit of his stomach. Oh Finn… So close, and yet, so beautiful... "So what exactly is this play thing about?" Finn asked the world in general, but surprise surprise, Rachel was the first to answer.

"Hairspray is about a talented but overweight and misunderstood girls who doesn't fit in, until she starts to dance, and then the most popular boy in school falls in love with her, and they live happily ever after."

"Also, racism," Mercedes put in.

"There is a political subtext, yes, but it was set in the 60s…" Rachel conceded.

Finn's head flipped from side to side as if he was watching a tennis match, in order to listen to both sides of the conversation. Kurt didn't help when he put in, "It makes sense why both of you would pick up on those plot lines, but they hardly count as that. Hairspray's all about superficiality; it doesn't follow through on its political statements, and it's more an excuse for cheap jokes."

"I'm hearing controversy behind me," Mr. Schuester turned around to face the row of kids, "But let's not judge it before we've seen it."

"I don't think we're expecting too much from this city's only theatre…" Kurt said disdainfully.

"Don't knock it before you've tried it. You know, I once got offered the part of Link," grinned Mr. Schuester.

"What? Why didn't you take it?" Emma exclaimed, turning to him.

"He'd have had to have worked evenings and weekends, and then who would have cooked dinner?" Terri replied. "You're not married, you wouldn't understand that sacrifices have to be made in order to spend time with the one you love."

Down below, the lights dimmed, and the orchestra struck its tune.

000

"Erm… Erm…" Mark was staring desperately down at the Taboo card, trying desperately to think of some way to describe it.

"Think of words, Mark! Colours, smells…" Tory urged his team mate. They were running out of time.

"There's one in New York!" Mark eventually exclaimed, scrabbling at straws.

"Central Park!"

"Empire State Building!"

"Big apple!"

"Big apple? What the hell Dean?"

"More clues! There's loads in New York." Mark just stuttered a little.

"Brooklyn Bridge."

"Carnegie Hall."

"Yanks."

"The Bronx."

"Time's up!" Nathan announced, laughing as he spoke. "What was it, Mark?"

"A zoo!"

Silence followed this explanation, until one of the girls in an opposing team dissolved into loud, almost honk-like laughter. The rest of the room quickly followed into mirth. Mark blushed, rapidly, and protested, "But you couldn't say animals or cages or…"

"No worries, Mark," Nathan chuckled. "You'll do better next time."

An exclamation of, "There are like four zoos in New York," floated over and Nathan winced.

One of the boys from another team, Ollie, grin plastered across his cheeks, called out, "Next time describe the elements of it – the animals inside it and stuff."

Mark smiled back at him.

"So have you been to one of the NY zoos then?" Ollie continued.

"Right!" Nathan shouted over the hubbub. "Four poofs and a pen. Your turn."

000

Quinn was the first person to speak as the applause died down. "Thank God that's over." She'd spent most of the performance with her pregnant head pillowed upon Puck's shoulder. The thought of a pregnant head amused Kurt for a moment – a giant pregnant head… In a jar… But Finn' lips were twisted in irritation at the whole seating arrangement. During the interval, they'd switched seats with the rest of the gleeks so that those in the cheap seats got to sit at the front instead. However, the arrangement had, irritatingly, remained the same.

"I liked it," Finn said, getting to his feet, and talking down the line.

"I had better things to do," Quinn replied, "And so did you. You should have spent this evening working."

"We're all allowed to have a bit of fun," Kurt said, looking upwards at the quarter back behind him. Finn followed him with a grateful smile, that made Kurt's stomach fizz and spark with heat. "How's work going, Finn?" Kurt queried, and moved to distract Finn from his woman troubles. He wanted that boy's smile again, and again, and again.

They spoke until they reached the bus, and Finn was obliged to sit with Quinn. Mercedes gave Kurt a soft high five as he made his way past her into his seat.

"Smooth, boy. Very nicely done," he told him.

"Thank you," Kurt said, primly, settling himself into his seat, and rearranging the cloth of his clothes.

"Welcome." Mercedes glanced down at her fingernails. "So… Whilst you were flirting, I was thinking… Hairspray would be so good for New Directions. Were we not Glee club."

"With you in the role of Miss Motormouth Maybelle, I presume?"

"Yup, and your charming Mr Hudson as Link?"

"Quinn as Velma, and… Britanny as Amber?"

"No! Quinn as Amber."

"Either way… Rachel as Tracy… like she'd let anyone else take lead and live…"

Mercedes' argument was interrupted by Rachel leaning over the back of her seat to talk to them. "I'm sorry, but are you once again trying to insinuate that I'm fat?"

000

By 9.30, everyone had left the community centre; it was a school night after all. And they had a bar to get to – even if they did have to hop on a bus to get to the nearest gay one. Stupid Ohio…

"Kim, these evaluation forms aren't going to do themselves!" Nathan shouted up the stairs.

"Two seconds! Someone dropped a mug up here… again…" Came the response.

Chortling to himself, Nathan moved back to the kitchen. Only to find that not everyone had left… "Ollie, what are you doing here?" he asked, his laugh failing in his throat. "Your mom not turned up yet?"

The blonde shook his head, staring down at the plate in his hands that he was slowly and methodically washing. Long strands of his fine hair fell in front of his face, so Nathan could not see his expression. "She can't pick me up tonight. I'm getting the bus and it's not here for ten minutes."

"Better waiting in here than out in the dark, I get it," smiled Nathan. "But you didn't have to go and start the washing up."

"I wanted to. Beats… just... sitting."

Nathan took a step forwards and took the plate Ollie was soaping from his hand, to dry it with a dishcloth. He frowned to himself as he did so; he'd been planning to raise it with Kim at evaluation, but Ollie had been acting strangely once people had started peeling away. The bubbly, confidant, striking boy had diminished slowly into this mite which was left. Was that all just an act? Was it all always just an act? "Are you OK, Ollie?"

It was as if the boy had been waiting for him to ask, and the words blurted out immediately. "Everyone else here is out to their parents. Everyone but me. I need to tell mine."

Ah. "You can't let other people's choices dictate yours," Nathan told him at once. "We all come out at times of our own choosing. It's completely personal. If you need time, you take your time." He paused for a moment. "Not everyone here's coming out went as planned. That's why Nina's living at Annie's and Dean's at his Aunt's."

"I know, but… it's something I have to do," mumbled Ollie.

"You don't _have_ to do anything…"

"You wouldn't understand!" Without warning, the boy threw down the bowl he was holding, and it smashed in the sink. A second later, Ollie had whipped out of the room.

Under his breath, Nathan swore, as he heard the door slam closed.

From upstairs, Kim called, "If you've broken something else, the owners will kill us!"

**A/N: Worry not, my friends. I have plans! Mostly focused around OCs I will admit, because they're fun. Any resemblance to real people in SNAP is not at all coincidental. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: Glee's not mine. Except the ones that are… Neither's Hairspray. Thankfully. **

"Honey, I'm home!" Nathan called as he pushed the door closed.

"Well it's about time…" Louis stepped out of the kitchen, wooden spoon in his hand. "What time do you call this?"

Nathan glanced at his watch. "Dinner time?" The smells billowing out from the kitchen were intoxicating, and Nathan hurriedly knelt down to pull his shoes from his feet. When he looked up, it was to find Louis standing over him, his comedy apron at just the right… wrong… right… height. "Can I help you?" he asked teasingly.

Louis quirked an angular eyebrow. "Shoes before kiss?" he asked.

"I was saving it," Nathan said, smirking. The grin faded when the over started its shrill shriek, however, before he could stand. "Your timing's off."

"My timing's exquisite thank you," quipped Louis, as he moved back into the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, "As well you know."

As he stirred the sauce on the hob, arms snuck around his waist, and he was brought back against a firm, shirted chest. A gentle kiss was pressed at the crook of his neck. "Is that better?" Nathan murmured.

"Perhaps a little," conceded Louis. He turned around, the wooden spoon offered up. "Taste."

Nathan obeyed the order. He hummed his pleasure at the taste of the spicy tomato sauce. "It's good."

"Good? Good?" Louis repeated, with excessive, false incredulity. "It's divine. Nothing less."

"Indeed, indeed," Nathan said, quelling the outrage with practiced ease. "I'm looking forward to it. How long til it's done?" he asked, peering over his partner's shoulder, watching him work.

"Five minutes."

Nathan turned to set out places at the table, but after a moment, observed, "It's quiet. Why is it so quiet in the house? It's never this quiet… Where's Rachel?"

000

"Kurt, you can drive a bit faster, you know…" chided Rachel. "You're way below the speed limit."

"I've only just got my baby back! I'm not putting her in danger again," Kurt snapped, his hand stroking the wheel far too tenderly.

"Yeah, chill out, Rachel," Mercedes exclaimed in defence of her friend.

"Fag hag to the rescue…" Puck drawled, staring out of the window, boredom scrawled across his face, practically etched in permanent marker.

"Settle down, Puck, or I'll drop you off here," threatened Kurt. Their surroundings were hardly ominous; just another example of middle class suburbia, but Puck shut up all the same. He didn't want to walk.

"Anyway, your casual homophobia lends itself to the idea that you have a deep seated hatred of your own sexuality," Rachel primly said, flicking imaginary lint from the crocheted border of her dress.

"What are you trying to say?" demanded Puck, turning to the girl across the bench from him with a snarl.

"You're in denial," Rachel said, simply.

Before Puck could retort, he was interrupted by Kurt swinging off the road and drawing up against the sidewalk. "What the hell, man, I was provoked!" protested Puck.

"Rachel, get out the car," Kurt ordered from the front.

There was a long intake of breath as Rachel prepared what would no doubt have been a spirited defence of herself, but Mercedes cut her off. "We're at your house, Berry. Get outta the car."

"I'm going, I'm going." As Rachel climbed out of the car, she tentatively called, "Thanks Kurt."

The belated exclamation of "I'm not gay!" followed Rachel out of the car.

000

There was that smell, that smell she would always associate with being home… When she stood in the doorway, she could smell the hanging baskets of her Dad's flowers; pansies and mini pine trees behind her, above the porch, coupled with the old leather odour of her Pops' jacket hanging on the hook in the doorway, and the aroma of her Dad's cooking. Oh God, her Dad's cooking… It was the reason she had to rise as the sun did to climb aboard the exercise machine. Not even the most dedicated anorexic could resist it.

"I'm home!" Rachel called, exhaling regretfully.

"Close the door, you're letting the cold in," her Pops shouted back, from inside the kitchen.

Rachel obeyed, quickly slipped out of her shoes and followed the voice into the kitchen. Her Dad stood up to hug her first, with a grin at her and a murmur of "Hey sweetie." When she was released, it was only to be pulled into an embrace from the waist from her still sitting Pops.

"You win anything?" asked her Dad, returning towards his seat.

"It was a musical we went to _watch_, Dad!" exclaimed Rachel, "And it was fine."

"Better if it was you, I get it. And I knew." Louis winked. "Did you eat?"

"Yup, but I wouldn't say no to more."

"New recipe," put in her Pops, another loaded forkful already prepared, which immediately disappeared once he was done with the words.

"Good times! How was SNAP?" The question was directed at her Pops.

000

"What have you done to your hair?" Kurt asked in a hiss, sitting down next to Mercedes.

"Just… teased it a little bigger than usual," Mercedes said, refusing to look at her friend. "Curled it."

"You've used a different hairspray," accused Kurt. "I could smell it as soon as I stepped it." His arms folded in distaste, he leant forwards, over her and sniffed disdainfully. His nose wrinkled. "What happened to the organic stuff? And… are there CFCs in there? Because I think there are."

Mercedes exclaimed, "No! The other stuff… I… It ran out."

"Really?" Kurt asked. "Because that's no excuse. I smell a hole in the ozone layer right over your head. Give me your handbag." He held out a hand, bent the arm at the elbow.

"It's not in there."

"Hand your bag over," Kurt insisted.

"Oh my God, Hummel, can you be anything but a stereotype?"

The interrupting voice from behind made Kurt and Mercedes turn to find Puck sitting on a seat behind them, head clearly just removed from his hands. Part of Kurt wondered why his head had been there, the other half was irritated. "Get out of it Puckerman," Mercedes snarled back.

"You get out of it," Puck replied. "Mincing about, talking about hairspray and face cream and Prada and God knows what else! Can you be more of a stereotype?"

"Yes." Once more, Kurt and Mercedes turned around and flounced down into a seat next to the pair. "He could be my Dad during Pride season… July is the best time in my house."

"Never been to Pride," Kurt said, changing the subject away from Puck. "Can you imagine my Dad's reaction?"

"We go to at least one, every year. There's one in Columbus, and one in Cleveland, and one in Cincinnati. And sometimes we go out of state," exclaimed Rachel. "You should go this year, Kurt."

"Maybe we should all go," Puck drawled. "We could bring the band and sing our way down the Ohio streets."

"You know, we so should," Mercedes enthused, waving her hands excitedly.

"Well we march with PFLAG or with my Dad's work, so if you guys were to go, I'm not sure how much my attendance could be split into three," stated Rachel.

There was a tut from behind, disdainful. "It was a joke! Jeez…" snapped Puck. "Having to go on group trips to useless musicals is bad enough. I'm not spending a whole day with the Rainbow Parade."

"Shut up, Puck," Finn said, approaching. "What's up with you today, anyway?"

"Nothing," muttered Puck. He turned down and fished his phone out of his pocket to gaze at the screen instead of the people around him.

"Hey kids," Mr. Schuester said, hurrying into the room so fast that his pumps slid on the waxed choir room floor. "Tina, Mike, wanna gather around, with you please?" Mr. Shuester hooked a chair with his foot and dragged it across the floor. One foot resting on it, he leant forwards. "How did you like the Performance last night?"

There was a murmur of compliments and insults that made Mr. Schuester smirk.

"Fair enough," he conceded. "Perhaps it wasn't the best performance, but how about you guys do it better?" He passed a sheaf of scores to Artie to pass around the group. "Now, I know the Cheerio girls are out at a competition and Matt's out too, but that leaves us with two sets of four, the perfect number to allow us to sing – "

"Without love?" Rachel asked, when the score reached her.

Cautiously, the music teacher asked, "Is that acceptable?"

Prompt and decisive, Rachel said, "Yes." Her eyes turned lecherously onto Finn. Without Quinn there, he would obviously choose to sing with her. "Yes I can deal with that."

"Quinn'll kill you if you sing another love song to Rachel," Puck leaned over and whispered into Finn's ear.

"Will you do it for me?" Finn asked, "You can take lead with her."

Around them, people were pairing up; Kurt and Mercedes high fived, and Tina skipped forwards to sit with Artie. "I'm not singing with her," Puck said decisively. "She sings like a crazy person… She pretty much _is_ a crazy person."

"Well I can't do it," complained Finn.

"Hey guys." Behind them, Mike leaned forwards. He'd been paying attention, doing the maths that Finn was too foolish, and Puck had been caught up thinking, to do. "I'll go with Berry, shall I?"

Finn turned around. "Would you?"

"What are friends for?" Mike asked.

"Owe you one," stated Puck.

With a slap on the shoulder of the boy in front, Mike stood, and hurried over to Rachel before the others. "Hey. Sing this one with me?" he asked, with a grin.

"Oh…!" Rachel seemed taken aback. "Erm… OK. But I thought…" She looked pleadingly over at Finn, but could only see the back of his head. He was clearly ignoring her. She tried to swallow her tears, and sniffed looking, up at Mike. "Yeah sure."

"So," Mr. Schuester looked up. "Artie and Tina, go with Rachel and… Mike? Are you a pair?" He seemed surprised. "So those who are left, get together in your four; Mercedes and Kurt, Finn and Puck is it? Ooooh… K. Get in your group. Decide who's who."

"Well, I'm bagsying Seaweed," Mercedes said at once.

"Really?" Kurt asked, seemingly surprised. "I know none of the roles are really yours… but… Seaweed?"

"He's strong, black and proud. Same as me."

Leaning over Puck's shoulder, Finn asked, "Who's the text to?" He'd lost track of this rehearsal a while before.

Puck shrugged. "Santana. They're on the coach back; they won. Obviously."

"As long as someone does…" Finn said.

Above him, Kurt and Mercedes were still talking. "Given that we're hardly sticking to stereotypical gender roles," Kurt pointed to Puck and Finn, "I have no problem being Penny."

Below, Finn was discussing the intricacies of the "Fuck buddy" relationship Puck and Santana had at the moment, and Mercedes had no problem turning her head up towards the two boys and asking, "So which one of you wants to be Link and which one's going to be Tracy?"

Finally, the boys paid attention, and, with Rachel, Mike cackled at the outraged realisation on their faces.

000

"Really? Do we really have to do this?" Puck asked. "I feel like an idiot."

"Look, it's not like we're dressing up or anything… It's just one song, it doesn't mention girls or boys… exactly… very often… It's just a song," Finn stated. "Just the words that happen that are different. It's Tina, Artie, Mike and Rachel out there. Oh and a couple of techies. Who the hell are they gonna tell?"

"No one… but…"

"We're just… just showing Kurt that it's fine to be who he is… right? That's all this is."

"Through song?" Puck asked. He kicked his frustration out on a cardboard box of props, and heard a 60s-style telephone ring it's irritation. "This sucks."

From the other side of the stage, also behind the curtains, Kurt waved to the other two. Shuester was trying to get them used to performing on the stage, whenever possible, with lighting and live bands whenever the Techies and Band could spare the time from the Drama Production of Peter Pan, and their concerts, respectively. Some of the more seasoned performers – actually just Rachel – thought it too much hassle, but most of the others enjoy the larger spaces and the wizardry which could be added.

When the lights above the stage and the rest of the auditorium dimmed, they stepped forwards in the dark. Blue lights and – for some reason – fairy lights which flashed out of sync, lit the right hand side.

Puck took a deep breath. Well at least he wasn't the girl. He began to sing Link's part.

_Once I was a selfish fool_

_Who never understood, _

_Never looked inside myself, _

_But on the outside, I looked good!_

Across the stage, Kurt found his breath beginning to race in anticipation, drying his mouth out and not preparing him to sing at all. But the thought of Finn singing to another man… he had known there was no chance of Finn agreeing to sing to him, but all the same, he was going to be singing to a guy. And he hadn't complained… unlike some mohawk headed idiot that had grouched and griped throughout the entirety of their rehearsal.

_Then we met and you made me_

_The man I am today_

_Tracy I'm in love with you, no matter what you weigh…_

'_Cause…_

When Finn's voice joined Puck's, Kurt found that, unusually, his thoughts weren't on Finn, but Puck. He didn't deserve to sing with Finn! He spent so much time with him anyway. Why couldn't he just share? And Finn and Puck just didn't sound right together, but now he could hear the two tones together to compare them. Puck sounded… just a little bit better than Finn… That wasn't fair! But he didn't quite have to struggle for the notes as Finn did. Though, then again, Finn was singing a girl's part, even if they'd damaged it. Poor boy, having to stretch himself like that when Puck just soared easily.

_Without love_

_Life is like the seasons with no summer._

_Without love_

_Life is rock 'n' roll without a drummer!_

Why did he, Kurt, have to stand on the other side of the room. Not for the first time in his life, Kurt felt jealous. He wanted to sing with Finn! Puck had everything already… And the flick of the boy's lapels at the announcement "I looked good" was not a lie… Why did he have to get a song with Finn as well?

_Tracy, I'll be yours forever_

'_Cause I never wanna be_

_Without love_

_Tracy never set me free_

_No I ain't lyin'_

_Never set me free, Tracy, _

_No, no, no!!_

The lights switched sides of the stage, throwing Finn and Puck into darkness. Mercedes started singing instead.

_Living in the ghetto_

_Black is everywhere you go_

_Who'd 've thought I'd love a girl_

_With skin as white as winter's snow?_

As Mercedes sung her part, Kurt composed himself, forcing the bitterness from his mind. There was no time for that when singing.

_In my ivory tower_

_Life was just a hostess snack_

_But now I've tasted chocolate_

_And I'm never going back!_

'_Cause without love_

_Life is like a beat that you can't follow_

_Without love_

_Life is Doris Day at the Apollo_

_Darling I'll be yours forever_

'_Cause I never wanna be_

_Without love_

_So Darlin' never set me free_

_Oh I'm yours forever_

_Never set me free_

_No, no, no!!_

Mercedes and Kurt grinned at each other easily as they sung their last few lines. At least, since the windscreen issue was over, no one would presume a deeper meaning to them singing to each other, as they would if Finn and Kurt sung together. Kurt failed to hide his blushes when Finn spoke to him, he'd be bright red if he sung with him, and the lights were blue. He couldn't blame it on them. He might go purple. Not a good look.

_If I'm left without my babydoll_

_I don't know what I'll do._

Did Puck just call Finn his babydoll?

_Link I've got to break out_

_So that I could get my hands on you_

Puck look disgusted. Kurt wouldn't have. The two pairs headed towards centre stage, to meet and sing together.

_And girl, If I can't touch you_

_I'm gonna lose control._

Though he was standing next to Puck, and Mercedes was singing, Kurt felt the same way. Tracy and Link joined in an unlikely partnership, why couldn't Kurt and Finn? He had to sing again.

_Seaweed, you're my black white knight_

_I've found my blue-eyed soul_

His blue-eyed soul… Finn his knight in shining armour… Always coming to his rescue with small mercies against Puck and the other jocks. Mercedes nudged him as a note flattened slightly. Taking a deep breath before the next chorus, Kurt forced himself to concentrate.

000

As the song came to it's peppy end, the group shared looks of triumph in the darkness. Whatever the lyrics, they knew they'd done good, and that was all that mattered.

The lights snapped off, but above the sound of the other gleeks' applause, there was the sound of jeers and laughter. Houselights were flicked on, and in the new illumination, Finn and Puck looked up to find, up on row Z, a gathering of scarlet. Blinking, they could make out the forms of more than a dozen cheerleaders and football players, gathered, bowling with hyena-like laughter.

"Shit," Finn swore.

**A/N: And we'll wrap up that there. Also, you might find that the pairing has changed in this fic… There may also be a further threesome. The rating therefore may rise accordingly. Sorry for any inconvenience, however the OCs will play big parts. Promise. **


End file.
